Chapter I: Part 1

THE ARROW-MAKER

A Drama in Three Acts

BY
MARY AUSTIN

_Revised Edition_

AMS PRESS
NEW YORK

Reprinted from the edition of 1915, Boston
First AMS EDITION published 1969
Manufactured in the United States of America

Library of Congress Catalogue Card Number: 70-90082

AMS PRESS, INC.
New York, N. Y. 10003

DEDICATED
IN GRATEFUL ACKNOWLEDGMENT TO
H. C. H.
AS ONE WHO AMONG MANY PROTESTANTS
"MADE GOOD"

PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION

The greatest difficulty to be met in the writing of an Indian play is the extensive misinformation about Indians. Any real aboriginal of my acquaintance resembles his prototype in the public mind about as much as he does the high-nosed, wooden sign of a tobacco store, the fact being that, among the fifty-eight linguistic groups of American aboriginals, customs, traits, and beliefs differ as greatly as among Slavs and Sicilians. Their very speech appears not to be derived from any common stock. All that they really have of likeness is an average condition of primitiveness: they have traveled just so far toward an understanding of the world they live in, and no farther. It is this general limitation of knowledge which makes, in spite of the multiplication of tribal customs, a common attitude of mind which alone affords a basis of interpretation.

But before attempting to realize the working of Indian psychology, you must first rid yourself of the notion that there is any real difference between the tribes of men except the explanations. What determines man's behavior in the presence of fever, thunder, and the separations of death, is the nature of his guess at the causes of these things. The issues of life do not vary so much with the conditions of civilization as is popularly supposed.

Chiefest among the misconceptions of primitive life, which make difficult any dramatic presentation of it, is the notion that all human contacts are accompanied by the degree of emotional stress that obtains only in the most complex social organizations. We are always hearing, from the people farthest removed from them, of "great primitive passions," when in fact what distinguishes the passions of the tribesmen from our own is their greater liability to the pacific influences of nature, and their greater freedom from the stimulus of imagination. What among us makes for the immensity of emotion, is the great weight of accumulated emotional tradition stored up in literature and art, almost entirely wanting in the camps of the aboriginals. There the two greatest themes of modern drama, love and ambition, are modified, the one by the more or less communal nature of tribal labor, the other by the plain fact that in the simple, open-air life of the Indian the physical stress of sex is actually much less than in conditions called civilized.

When the critics are heard talking of "drama of great primitive passions," what they mean is great barbaric passions, passions far enough along in the process of socialization to be subject to the interactions of wealth, caste, and established religion, and still free from the obligation of politeness. But the life of the American Indian provides no such conditions, and, moreover, in the factor which makes conspicuously for the degree of complication called Plot, is notably wanting,--I mean in the factor of Privacy. Where all the functions of living are carried on in the presence of the community, or at the best behind the thin-walled, leafy huts, human relations become simplified to a degree difficult for our complexer habit to comprehend. The only really great passions--great, I mean, in the sense of being dramatically possible--are communal, and find their expression in the dance which is the normal vehicle of emotional stress.

In _The Arrow-Maker_ the author, without dwelling too much on tribal peculiarities, has attempted the explication of this primitive attitude toward a human type common to all conditions of society. The particular mould in which the story is cast takes shape from the manner of aboriginal life in the Southwest, anywhere between the Klamath River and the Painted Desert; but it has been written in vain if the situation has not also worked itself out in terms of your own environment.

The Chisera is simply the Genius, one of those singular and powerful characters whom we are still, with all our learning, unable to account for without falling back on the primitive conception of gift as arising from direct communication with the gods. That she becomes a Medicine Woman is due to the circumstance of being born into a time which fails to discriminate very clearly as to just which of the inexplicable things lie within the control of her particular gift. That she accepts the interpretation of her preeminence which common opinion provides for her, does not alter the fact that she is no more or less than just the gifted woman, too much occupied with the use of her gift to look well after herself, and more or less at the mercy of the tribe. What chiefly influences their attitude toward her is worthy of note, being no less than the universal, unreasoned conviction that great gift belongs, not to the possessor of it, but to society at large. The whole question then becomes one of how the tribe shall work the Chisera to their best advantage.

How they did this, with what damage and success is to be read, but if to be read profitably, with its application in mind to the present social awakening to the waste, the enormous and stupid waste, of the gifts of women. To one fresh from the consideration of the roots of life as they lie close to the surface of primitive society, this obsession of the recent centuries, that the community can only be served by a gift for architecture, for administration, for healing, when it occurs in the person of a male, is only a trifle less ridiculous than that other social stupidity, namely, that a gift of mothering must not be exercised except in the event of a particular man being able, under certain restrictions, to afford the opportunity. There is perhaps no social movement going on at present so deep-rooted and dramatic as this struggle of Femininity to recapture its right to serve, and still to serve with whatever powers and possessions it finds itself endowed. But a dramatic presentation of it is hardly possible outside of primitive conditions where no tradition intervenes to prevent society from accepting the logic of events.

Whatever more there may be in _The Arrow-Maker_, besides its Indian color, should lie in the discovery by the Chisera, to which the author subscribes, that it is also in conjunction with her normal relation for loving and bearing that the possessor of gifts finds the greatest increment of power. To such of these as have not discovered it for themselves, _The Arrow-Maker_ is hopefully recommended.

NOTE TO THE SECOND EDITION

_The Arrow-Maker_ was first published as produced at The New Theatre, New York, in the spring of 1911. In that edition certain concessions were made to what was thought to be the demand for a drama of Indian life which should present the Indian more nearly as he is popularly conceived.

After four years the success of the published play as an authentic note on aboriginal life as well as a drama suitable for production in schools and colleges, seems to warrant its publication in the original form. As it now stands, the book not only conforms to the author's original conception of the drama, but to the conditions of the life it presents.

With the addition of notes and glossary it is hoped the present edition will meet every demand that can be made on an honest attempt to render in dramatic form a neglected phase of American life.

M. A.

PERSONS OF THE DRAMA

In the order of their appearance

CHOCO }

PAMAQUASH } _Fighting men_

TAVWOTS }

YAVI _A youth_

SEEGOOCHE _The Chief's wife_

TIAWA _A very old woman_

WACOBA _Wife to Pamaquash_

THE CHISERA _Medicine Woman of the Paiutes_

BRIGHT WATER _The Chief's daughter_

WHITE FLOWER }

TUIYO } _Friends of Bright Water_

PIOKE }

SIMWA _The Arrow-Maker_

PADAHOON _Rival to Simwa for leadership_

RAIN WIND _Chief of the Paiutes_

HAIWAI _A young matron_

THE ARROW-MAKER

ACT FIRST

THE ARROW-MAKER

ACT FIRST

SCENE.--_The hut of the_ CHISERA, _in the foot-hills of the Sierras. It stands at the mouth of a steep, dark canyon, opening toward the valley of Sagharawite. At the back rise high and barren cliffs where eagles nest; at the foot of the cliffs runs a stream, hidden by willow and buckthorn and toyon. The wickiup is built in the usual Paiute fashion, of long willows set about a circular pit, bent over to form a dome, thatched with reeds and grass. About the hut lie baskets and blankets, a stone metate, other household articles, all of the best quality; in front is a clear space overflowing with knee-deep many-colored bloom of the California spring. A little bank that runs from the wickiup to the toyon bushes is covered with white forget-me-nots. The hearth-fire between two stones is quite out, but the deerskin that screens the opening of the hut is caught up at one side, a sign that the owner is not far from home, or expects to return soon._

_At first glance the scene appears devoid of life, but suddenly the call of a jay bird is heard faintly and far up the trail that leads to the right among the rocks. It is repeated nearer at hand, perfectly imitated but with a nuance that advises of human origin, and two or three half-naked Indians are seen to be making their way toward the bottom of the canyon, their movements so cunningly harmonized with the lines of the landscape as to render them nearly invisible._ CHOCO _and_ PAMAQUASH _with two others come together at the end of the bank farthest from the_ CHISERA'S _hut._

CHOCO

Who called?

PAMAQUASH

It came from farther up.

CHOCO

Yavi, I think.

PAMAQUASH

He must have seen something.

CHOCO

By the Bear, if the Castacs have crossed our boundaries, there are some of them shall not recross it!

PAMAQUASH

Hush--the Chisera--she will hear you!

CHOCO

She is not in the hut. She went out toward the hills early this morning, and has not yet returned. Besides, if the Castacs have crossed, we cannot keep it from the women much longer.

PAMAQUASH

(_Who has moved up to a better post of observation._) There is some one on the trail.

(_The jay's call is heard and answered softly by_ PAMAQUASH.)

CHOCO

Yavi. But Tavwots is not with him. (YAVI _comes dropping from the cliffs._) What have you seen?

YAVI

Smoke rising--by Deer Leap. Two long puffs and a short one.

(_The news is received with sharp, excited murmurs._)

PAMAQUASH

More than a score--and with all our youths we cannot count so many.

CHOCO

And this business of war leader still unsettled--The Council must sit at once. Go, one of you, and tell Chief Rain Wind that Tavwots has signaled from Deer Leap that more than a score of Castacs are out against us.

PAMAQUASH

And tell the women to prepare a gift hastily for the Chisera. Who knows how soon we shall have need of her medicine.

(_One of the Indians departs on this errand._)

CHOCO

Never so much need of it as when we have neglected our own part of the affair! Even before the Castacs began to fill up our springs and drive our deer, we knew that the Chief is too old for war; and now that the enemy has crossed our borders we are still leaderless.

PAMAQUASH

So we should not be if we had followed the tribal use and given the leadership to years and experience. It is you young men who have unsettled judgment, with the to-do you have made about the Arrow-Maker.

CHOCO

I have nothing against years and experience, but when one has the gods as plainly on his side as Simwa--

YAVI

Never have I seen a man so increase in power and fortune--

PAMAQUASH

Huh--huh! I too have watched the growth of this Simwa. Also I have seen a gourd swelling with the rains, and I have not laid it to the gods in either case. But the Council must sit upon it. We must bring it to the Council.

YAVI

(_Hotly._) Why should you credit the gods with Simwa's good fortune since he himself does not so claim it? For my part, I think with the Arrow-Maker, that it is better for a man to thrive by his own wits, rather than by the making of medicine or the wisdom of the elders.

PAMAQUASH

(_From above._) Tst--st, Tavwots!

(TAVWOTS _comes down the canyon panting with speed. He drops
exhausted on the bank, and_ YAVI _gives him water between his
palms from the creek._)

CHOCO

Have they crossed?

TAVWOTS

Between Deer Leap and Standing Rock--more than a score, though I think some of them were boys--but they had no women.

CHOCO

They mean fighting, then!

YAVI

Well, they can have it.

TAVWOTS

But they should not be let fatten on our deer before they come to it. Winnemucca, whom I left at Deer Leap, will bring us word where they camp to-night. In the mean time there is much to do. (_Rising._)

CHOCO

Much. No doubt Simwa will have something to suggest.

TAVWOTS

The Arrow-Maker is not yet war leader, my friend. I go to the Chief and the Council. (_He goes._)

CHOCO

And yet, I think the Chief favors Simwa, else why should he prefer to put the election to lot rather than keep to the custom of the fathers?

YAVI

(_Going._) There might be reasons to that, not touching the merits of the Arrow-Maker.

PAMAQUASH

Tavwots has met the women!

(_Sounds of the grief of the women in the direction of the
camp._)

CHOCO

They are coming to the Chisera. We should not have let them find us here; they will neglect their business with her to beset us with questions.

(_To them enter three women of the campody of Sagharawite,
carrying perfect-patterned, bowl-shaped baskets, with gifts of
food for the_ CHISERA. SEEGOOCHE, _the Chiefs wife, is old and
full of dignity._ TIAWA _is old and sharp, but_ WACOBA _is a
comfortable, comely matron, who wears a blanket modestly yet to
conceal charms not past their prime._ SEEGOOCHE _and_ TIAWA _wear
basket caps, but_ WACOBA _has a bandeau of bright beads about her
hair. They show signs of agitation, instantly subdued at sight of
the men_.)

SEEGOOCHE

Is this true what Tavwots has told us, that the Castacs are upon us?

CHOCO

No nearer than Pahrump. Not so near by the time we have done with them. What gifts have you?

TIAWA

The best the camp affords. Think you we would stint when the smoke of the Castacs goes up within our borders?

WACOBA

Where is she?

CHOCO

Abroad in the hills gathering roots and herbs for to-night's medicine. Wait for her.--We must go look to our fighting gear.

(_He goes out in the direction of the campody._)

PAMAQUASH

(_To_ WACOBA.) My bow case, is it finished?

WACOBA

And the bow inside it. See that you come not back to me nor to your young son until the bowstring is frayed asunder.

PAMAQUASH

If you do your work with the Chisera as well as we with Castac, you shall not need to question our bowstrings. (_Going._)

SEEGOOCHE

Leave us to deal--though if she cannot help us in this matter, I do not know where we shall turn.

TIAWA

Never have I asked help of her, and been disappointed.

WACOBA

(_Gathering flowers._) Aye, but that was mere women's matters, weevil in the pine nuts, a love-charm or a colicky child. _This is war!_

SEEGOOCHE

(_Still peering about._) As if that were not a woman's affair also!

TIAWA

You may well say that! It was in our last quarrel with Castac I lost the only man-child I ever had, dead before he was born. When the women showed me his face, it was all puckered with the bitterness of that defeat. You may well say a woman's matter!

SEEGOOCHE

That was the year my husband was first made Chief, and we covered defeat with victory, as we shall again. It was Tinnemaha, the father of the Chisera, went before the gods for us, I remember.

TIAWA

Well for us that he taught her his strong medicine. Not a fighting man from Tecuya to Tehachappi but trusts in her.

(_Goes to the creek and dips up water to drink in her basket
cap._)

WACOBA

(_Tentatively._) It is believed by some that she makes medicine for Simwa, the Arrow-Maker, and that is why his arrows are so well feathered and fly so swiftly to the mark.

SEEGOOCHE

Simwa! Why, he scoffs at charms and speaks lightly even of the gods.

TIAWA

(_Giving the others to drink from her cap._) Aye; Simwa puts not faith in anybody but Simwa.

SEEGOOCHE

And with good reason, for he is the most skillful of the tribesmen. He has made all the arrows for the fighting men. Do you think they will make him war leader?

WACOBA

(_Ornamenting the basket she has brought with a wreath of flowers, which she plucks._) Padahoon will never agree to it.

TIAWA

But if Simwa is the better man?

WACOBA

The Sparrow Hawk is older, and has the greater experience.

SEEGOOCHE

Prutt! If age and experience were all, my husband would not ask that a new leader be chosen. Young men are keenest-eyed and quickest afoot.

(_She moves up the trail looking for signs of the_ CHISERA.)

TIAWA

(_Going over to_ WACOBA, _aside from_ SEEGOOCHE.) So the Chief favors Simwa? I would not have thought it.

WACOBA

(_Significantly._) Seegooche's daughter is not married, and the Arrow-Maker has many blankets.

TIAWA

Ugh, huh! So the scent lies up that trail? Well, why not?

WACOBA

Why not? The Chief's daughter and the war leader? A good match.

TIAWA

(_Going across to the hut._) Aye, a good match!... Do you know, I have never been in the Chisera's house. It is said she has a great store of baskets and many beads. Let us look.

SEEGOOCHE

No, no; do not go near it.

WACOBA

(_Alarmed._) _Kima!_ Tiawa, she may be watching you.

TIAWA

(_By the hut, but not daring to enter it._) What harm to visit a neighbor's house when the door is open. Besides, she makes no bad medicine.

SEEGOOCHE

We know that she does not, but not that she could not if she would.

TIAWA

(_Returning reluctantly._) Why should we hold the Chisera so apart from the campody? Why should she not have a husband and children as other women? How can she go before the gods for us until she knows what we are thinking in our hearts?

WACOBA

(_Jumping up._) I have seen something stirring in the alder bushes. I think the Chisera comes!

SEEGOOCHE

Do not be seen too near the hut. Come away, Tiawa.

TIAWA

Have you the presents ready? (_The women take up their baskets hastily._) Hide your basket, Seegooche. It is not well to let all your gifts appear on the first showing, for if she is not persuaded at first, we shall have something of more worth.

(_The_ CHISERA _comes out of the trail by the almond bushes,
young and tall and comely, but of dignified, almost forbidding,
carriage. She is dressed chiefly in skins; her hair is very long,
braided with beads. She carries a small burden basket on her
back, supported by a band about her forehead. She removes this,
and drops it at the hut, coming forward._)

THE CHISERA

Friends, what have we to do with one another? Seegooche, has your meal fermented? Or has your baby the colic again, Wacoba?

SEEGOOCHE

We have a gift for you, Chisera.

(_The women draw near timidly, each, as she speaks, placing her
basket at the_ CHISERA'S _feet, and retire._)

THE CHISERA

(_Looking at the gifts, without touching them._) The venison is fat and tender; Seegooche, there is no one grinds meal so smoothly as you. The honey is indeed acceptable.

(_After a pause, during which the medicine woman looks keenly at
them._)

TIAWA

We do not come for ourselves, Chisera, but from the tribeswomen.

SEEGOOCHE

From every one who has a husband or son able to join battle.

THE CHISERA

(_Eagerly._) Is there battle?

SEEGOOCHE

Even as we came, there was word that the Castacs are camped at Pahrump, and before night our men must meet them.

THE CHISERA

And you ask me--?

SEEGOOCHE

(_Approaching appealingly and sinking to the ground in the stress of anxiety._) A charm, Chisera!

TIAWA

(_Approaching with_ WACOBA.) A most potent medicine, O friend of the gods!

WACOBA

That our men may have strength and discretion. That their hearts may not turn to water and their knees quake under them--

TIAWA

(_Urgently._) May the bows of Castac be broken, and their arrows turned aside--

SEEGOOCHE

For the lords of our bodies and the sons of our bodies, a blessing, Chisera!

WACOBA

That our hearths may be kept alight and our children know their fathers--

TIAWA

When the noise of battle is joined and the buzzards come, may they feed on our foes, Chisera--

SEEGOOCHE

O friend of the gods, befriend us!

(_The women cast dust on their hair and rock to and fro while
the_ CHISERA _speaks, lifting up their arms in an agony of
entreating._)

THE CHISERA

Am I not also a tribeswoman? Would not I do so much for my people? But your gifts and your prayers will be acceptable to the gods, for of myself I can do nothing. (_She stoops to the gifts, but hesitates._) Who is this that comes?

(_The young girls steal up noiselessly through the bushes, led by
the Chief's daughter._ BRIGHT WATER _is lovely and young; her
hair, flowing loosely over her shoulders and breast, is mingled
with strings of beads and bright berries. Her dress of fringed
buckskin is heavily beaded, her arms are weighted with armlets of
silver and carved beads of turquoise; about her neck hangs a disk
of glittering shell. She walks proudly, a little in advance of
the others, who bunch up timidly like quail on the trail, behind
her. The women, catching sight of the girls, spring up,
frightened, and stand half protectingly between them and the_
CHISERA.)

TIAWA

It is the Chief's daughter.

SEEGOOCHE

What do you here? You have neither sons nor husbands that you should ask spells and charms.

BRIGHT WATER

How, then, shall we have husbands or sons, if the battle goes against us?

THE CHISERA

Well answered, Chief's daughter.

BRIGHT WATER

(_Surprised._) You know me?

THE CHISERA

I have heard that the loveliest maiden of Sagharawite is called Bright Water, daughter of Rain Wind, Chief of the Paiutes.

SEEGOOCHE

(_Going over to_ BRIGHT WATER.) You should have stayed in the wickiup, my daughter; you are too young to go seeking magic medicine.

BRIGHT WATER

The more need because we are young, mother. If the loss of battle come to you, at least you have had the love of a man and the lips of children at the breast. But we, if the battle goes against us, what have we?

THE CHISERA

Ay, truly, Seegooche, there are no joys so hard to do without as those we have not had.

BRIGHT WATER

Therefore, we ask a charm, Chisera, for our sweethearts; and, in the mean time, may this remind you--

(_She drops a bracelet in the_ CHISERA'S _basket._)

WHITE FLOWER

(_Going forward._) The scarlet beads from me, Chisera. I am to be married in the time of tasseling corn.

TUIYO

The shells from me, Chisera. Good medicine!

PIOKE

Strong Bow is my lover, Chisera. Bring him safe home again.

(_The girls retire after dropping their gifts in the_ CHISERA'S
_basket._)

THE CHISERA

(_A little stiffly._) You have no need of gifts. Am I not young, even as you? Should _you_ pray for your lover any more or less for the sake of a few beads?

SEEGOOCHE

(_Anxiously._) Be not angry, Chisera. They would repay you for the dancing and the singing.

(_The_ CHISERA _gathers up the gifts that the older women have
brought and goes into the hut. The girls take up their gifts,
puzzled._)

SEEGOOCHE

I am afraid you have vexed her with your foolish quest.

BRIGHT WATER

Has the Chisera a lover also, that she speak so?

SEEGOOCHE

It is not possible and we not know of it, for since her father's death if any sought her hand in marriage, he must come to my husband in the matter of dowry.

WACOBA

No fear that any will come while she is still the Chisera.

BRIGHT WATER

She is the wisest of us all.

TIAWA

Wisdom is good as a guest, but it wears out its welcome when it sits by the hearth-stone.

BRIGHT WATER

She has great power with the gods.

WACOBA

So much so that if she had a husband, he dare not beat her lest she run and tattle to them.

SEEGOOCHE

She is our Chisera, and there is not another like her between Tehachappi and Tecuya. If she were wearied with stooping and sweating, if she were anxious with bearing and rearing, how could she go before the gods for us?

TIAWA

Aye, that is the talk in the wickiups, that we must hold her apart from us to give her room for her great offices, but I have always said--but I am old and nobody minds me--I have always said that if she had loved as we love and had borne as we have borne, she would be the more fitted to entreat the gods that we may not lose.

SEEGOOCHE

(_As the_ CHISERA _comes out of the hut._) If you are angry, Chisera, turn it against our enemies of Castac.

THE CHISERA

You know that I cannot curse.

TIAWA

Is it true, Chisera, that you make no bad medicine?

THE CHISERA

Many kinds of sickness I can cure, and give easy childbirth. I can bring rain, and give fortune in the hunt, but of the making of evil spells I know nothing.

SEEGOOCHE

But your father, the medicine man--he was the dread and wonder of the tribes.

THE CHISERA

Aye, my father could kill by a spell, and make a wasting sickness with a frown, but he thought such powers not proper to women: therefore he taught me none.

WACOBA

But you will bring a blessing on the battle? Oh, Chisera, they do not tell us women, but we hear it whispered about the camp that the men of Castac are five and twenty, and even with the youths who go to their first battle we cannot make a score of ours. It is the Friend of the Soul of Man must make good our numbers.

THE CHISERA

Even now I go to prepare strong medicine.

WACOBA

Come away, then, and leave the Chisera to her work. (_Going._)

SEEGOOCHE

May the gods befriend you. If we have your blessing, we care little for another's curse. (_Going._)

THE CHISERA

Stay. After all, we are but women together, and if a woman may give counsel, women may hear it.

TIAWA

Would we might hear yours to-day!

THE CHISERA

When the smoke of the medicine fire arises, so as to be seen from the spring, do you come up along the creek as far as the black rock.

WOMEN

Yes, yes!

THE CHISERA

When you hear the medicine rattles, stand off by the toyon.

WOMEN

By the toyon--yes!

THE CHISERA

But when the rattles are stopped, and the singing falls off, come up very softly, not to disturb the Council, and hear what the gods have said. If the men speak against it, I will stand for you.

SEEGOOCHE

Our thanks to you, Chisera, for this kindness.

TIAWA

And though you are a Chisera, and have strange intercourse with the gods, I know you a woman, by this token.

THE CHISERA

Doubt it not, but go.

SEEGOOCHE

Come away, girls.

(_They go out, the girls with them. But_ BRIGHT WATER _lingers,
and comes back to the_ CHISERA.)

BRIGHT WATER

Chisera--

THE CHISERA

Chief's daughter?

BRIGHT WATER

Call me by my name.

THE CHISERA

Bright Water, what would you have of me?

BRIGHT WATER

Can you--will you make a charm for one going out to battle whose name is not spoken?

THE CHISERA

How shall the gods find him out, if he is not to be named?

BRIGHT WATER

(_Earnestly._) Oh, he is handsome and strong in the shoulders; the muscles of his back are laced like thongs. He is the bravest--

THE CHISERA

(_Laughing._) Chief's daughter, whenever I have made love charms, they have been for men handsome and strong in the back.

BRIGHT WATER

(_Abashed._) I know not how to describe him.

THE CHISERA

(_Still smiling._) And his name is not to be spoken? (BRIGHT WATER _continues to look down at her moccasin._) If I had something of his: something he had shaped with his hands or worn upon his person, that I could make medicine upon--

BRIGHT WATER

Like this?

(_Takes amulet from her neck and holds it out._)

THE CHISERA

(_Taking it._) Did he give you this?

BRIGHT WATER

He made it.

THE CHISERA

(_Examining it._) It is skillfully fashioned.

BRIGHT WATER

Will it answer?

THE CHISERA

To make a spell upon? Yes, if you can spare it.

BRIGHT WATER

Shall I have it again?

THE CHISERA

When the time is past for which the spell is made.

BRIGHT WATER

Make it, then; a powerful medicine against ill fortune in battle. And this for your pains, Chisera. (_Holds out bracelet._)

THE CHISERA

(_Proudly._) I want no gifts. Keep your bracelet.

BRIGHT WATER

(_With equal pride._) The Chief's daughter asks no favors.

THE CHISERA

But if a Chisera choose to confer them? (_With sudden feeling._) What question is there between us of Chief's daughter and Chisera? We are two women, and young.

BRIGHT WATER

(_Uncertainly._) The Chisera is the friend of the gods.

THE CHISERA

And therefore not the friend of any tribeswoman? (_Passionately._) Oh, I am weary of the friendship of the gods! If I have walked in the midnight and heard what the great ones have said, is that any reason I should not know what a man says to a maid in the dusk--or do a kindness to my own kind--or love, and be beloved?

BRIGHT WATER

(_Moved._) Therefore take it (_offering bracelet again_) as one woman from another--and you shall make a charm for me for love.

THE CHISERA

(_Taking the gift._) I shall make it as though I loved him myself.

BRIGHT WATER

(_Startled._) Oh, I did not say I loved him.

THE CHISERA

(_Smiling._) No?

BRIGHT WATER

(_Studying the pattern of her moccasin._) Is it true, Chisera, that you have been called to the Council that decides upon the war leader who is to be chosen in my father's place?

THE CHISERA

I am to inquire of the gods concerning it.

BRIGHT WATER

(_Diffidently._) Chisera, I have heard--my father thinks--Simwa, the Arrow-Maker, is well spoken of.

(_The first note of the love call is heard far up the cliffs.
The_ CHISERA _starts and controls herself._)

THE CHISERA

(_Coldly, in dismissal._) Simwa needs the good word of no man. It shall be as the gods determine.

(_Goes over to hut. The love call sounds nearer._)

BRIGHT WATER

(_After a moment's hesitation._) Farewell, Chisera. (_She goes._)

THE CHISERA

(_Looking up the trail._) Ah, Simwa, Simwa, what bond there is between us, when, if I but pronounce thy name in my heart, thy voice answers.

(_The love call is repeated far up the cliffs above her hut, and
she answers it, singing:_)

Over-long are thy feet on the trails,
O Much Desired!!
Dost thou not hear afar what my blood whispers,
Betraying my heart as the whir
Of the night-moth's wings betray the lilies?

(_As she sings_, SIMWA, _in full war dress, comes dropping down,
hand over hand, from the rocks, until he stands beside her._)

SIMWA

Did you not hear me when first I called?

THE CHISERA

I heard you, Most Desired. When do I not? Even when I sleep, my heart wakes to hear you. The women have been with me.

SIMWA

You know, then?

THE CHISERA

That this very night a war party of ours must go out to meet the Castacs.

SIMWA

And before that there will be a Council to choose a war leader? Has the Chief told you?

THE CHISERA

Not since this latest word, but yesterday he bid me prepare a strong medicine, for he thought the election would be made by lot. But I did not tell him, O Much Desired, that I had already made medicine a night and a day to let the choice fall on you. A day and a night by Deer Leap on Toorape, where never foot but mine had been, I made medicine, and the answer is sure.

SIMWA

That I shall get the leadership?

THE CHISERA

When have the gods denied me anything that I asked for your sake, Arrow-Maker of Sagharawite?

SIMWA

The Padahoon hunts on a cold trail, and there is nothing for me to do?

(_He sits on the bank and the_ CHISERA _sits below him._)

THE CHISERA

Beloved, there is much to do, for before the shadow which lies between my feet has grown tall again, I must make medicine for the sake of this war; and I have spent so much on you, the power goes from me. Now, you must put your hand upon my heart, and nurse it warm, so that the people lack nothing of their Chisera.

SIMWA

Is that good, Chisera? (_Puts his arm about her._)

THE CHISERA

Very good, Friend of my heart. (_She leans upon his arm._)

SIMWA

(_Quickened by the caress._) Chisera, what did you do before I came?

THE CHISERA

Oh, then I lived in the dream of you. When I ran in the trails, my heart expected you at every turn, and in the dark of the hut the sense of you brooded on my sleep. But I thought it was all for the gods.

SIMWA

(_Fatuously._) Until I came.

THE CHISERA

Did I tell you, Simwa, that day when first you found me dancing in the sun--you had been gathering eagle's feathers for your arrows, do you remember?--I thought that day that you were of the gods yourself, for I was sick with longing, and the spring was in my blood.

SIMWA

And when I came again, what did you think?

THE CHISERA

That you were the man most deserving their favor, and that all the medicine I had learned until then was merely that I might persuade them for your sake.

SIMWA

(_Sitting up._) Chisera, when you go up to the Friend of the Soul of Man, you cannot be always asking for the tribespeople. Do you not sometimes ask for yourself?

THE CHISERA

What should I ask for when I have your love?

SIMWA

For friends, perhaps, who are to be rewarded, or those who have done you injuries? (_Watching her._)

THE CHISERA

(_Laughing._) Once, Simwa, before I was sure of you, I made a singing medicine to draw you from the camp. And you came, Arrow-Maker of Sagharawite, you came. (_Laying her hands on his bosom._) Did you not feel me draw you?

SIMWA

Often and often, as it were a tie-rope in my bosom between us. (_Letting go her hands and stretching himself preparatory to rising._) But I did not think it was your medicine.

THE CHISERA

What then?

SIMWA

(_Rising and walking about._) Your beauty and the wonder of your dancing.

THE CHISERA

Tell me, Simwa, in the beginning I know you did not believe; but now you understand the power I have from the Friend of the Soul of Man?

SIMWA

Surely; now that I am about to be made war leader by means of it.

THE CHISERA

(_Rising and going back to the feathering of the prayer-stick._) But I have heard the women gossiping at the spring--

SIMWA

What did they say?

THE CHISERA

That Simwa does not believe in charms and scoffs at the gods.

SIMWA

That was true (_recovering_)--once. But now that I am become the most notable arrow-maker in Sagharawite--

THE CHISERA

Now--now you do not scoff at the Chisera?

SIMWA

(_Embarrassed._) But it is not always well for a man to say what he thinks. If I were to tell in the campody whence my good fortune is, would not Padahoon do me some mischief for it?

THE CHISERA

But, Simwa, am I never to come to you as other women to the wickiups of their husbands?

SIMWA

What need, Chisera, when I come so often to yours?

THE CHISERA

The need of women to serve openly where they love.

SIMWA

But what service could you do me when you had lost the respect of the tribesmen? You know the tribal custom. It is not for the friend of the gods to dig roots and dress venison.

(_Throws himself on the bank beside her._)

THE CHISERA

I have not found the gods any the less friendly since I have loved, Arrow-Maker; and I know not why it should seem strange to others that I should know love as--as we have known it. Only to-day the girls of the village came to me to buy a charm to keep their lovers safe in war. There was not one but dared to ask, even though she would not speak her lover's name for bashfulness. See, one of them gave me this to make medicine upon.

SIMWA

(_Taking it._) Bright Water gave you this?

THE CHISERA

(_Surprised._) How did you know?

SIMWA

I thought you said--that is, I have seen her wear it. Did she tell you from whom she had it?

THE CHISERA

Not by his name, but by the way he looked to her.

SIMWA

How was that?

THE CHISERA

As every lover looks to every maid--tall and strong and straight of back. Even as you look to me, Beloved.

SIMWA

(_Relieved, giving back the amulet._) May your medicine preserve him. And, as for me, Chisera, I wish I could persuade the tribesmen to look as favorably on me as you do.

THE CHISERA

But you have no enemies.

SIMWA

The Sparrow Hawk, without doubt. Could you give me a curse for him?

THE CHISERA

(_Rising._) Ah, you should not have asked me that. Never since my father died have I thought to regret that he did not teach me the making of evil medicine. Would I had all the curses in the world! (_Turning piteously to him._) But you do not love me any the less because I have not one little, little curse to give you?

SIMWA

No, it is nothing. No curse can reach me past your blessing. But I would not have thought the old man would leave you wholly unprotected. Why, even I could wrong you, and, without a curse (_trying to speak lightly_) you could not punish me for it.

THE CHISERA

If no one does me no more wrong than you, Simwa, I need no cursing. But, in truth, my father did give me--Ah, now I have thought of another gift for you, Arrow-Maker of Sagharawite! Before he died, the medicine man, my father--did I not tell you? (_she rummages eagerly in her medicine bag_)--gave me this magic arrow against my evil hour. (_Drawing it out._) See how heavy it is, and how the blood drain is cut in a medicine writing round and round the shaft.

SIMWA

What magic has it?

THE CHISERA

That however far and feebly it is shot, it flies straight to the mark, over hills and high mountains, in the dark or light, and death rides upon its shaft. (_Laughing._) Why, you could kill even me with this arrow. See, I have tied it in your quiver, so that you may not mistake it and shoot it away on any slight occasion. It is my latest gift to you, Beloved.

SIMWA

Thanks for the gift, Chisera. Now give me the quiver. I must join the others before the Council. The fighting men were painting their faces when I came.

(_A war-whoop is heard at a distance._)

THE CHISERA

I hear shouting.

SIMWA

I must go quickly. I would not have Padahoon find me here.

THE CHISERA

Yes, he would brood upon it like a sage hen, until he had hatched mischief. Oh, Simwa, though I have prayed the gods until they and I are weary, to keep you safe in this war, yet my heart shakes to see you go. There is a beating in my breast as of the wings of vultures after battle.

SIMWA

You have wearied yourself too much making medicine. If you have no more faith in the gods, have a little in me. If I can go out of Sagharawite as war leader, I shall come back with the spoil of Castac. (_Shouts are heard nearer than before._) Now I go quickly! (_He turns carelessly from her lingering caress and crosses to the toyon, starting back at the sight of_ PADAHOON, _moving noiselessly through the chaparral, blanketed and watchful._) What! Has the Sparrow Hawk eaten _when-o-nabe_ that he must visit the Chisera on the eve of Council?

PADAHOON

I come from the Chief--but I had not expected to find Simwa, the scoffer, before me.

SIMWA

(_Uneasily._) I have been gathering eagles' feathers for my arrows under Toorape.

PADAHOON

Quite so--and are not the first hunter to find the shortest way past the house of the Medicine Woman. But it is well known that Simwa seeks no charms for himself. The Chief has been asking for you.

(_He passes on to the_ CHISERA, _standing stiffly with strained
attention by her hut._ SIMWA _hesitates, recovers himself, and
passes out with the appearance of indifference._)

Chisera, Rain Wind, Chief of Sagharawite, greets you, and bids me say that at the moth-hour he will be here with the fighting men to invite the favor of the gods in this war with Castac.

THE CHISERA

And before that--?

PADAHOON

There will be a Council--

THE CHISERA

To choose a war leader.

PADAHOON

So the Chief has said.

THE CHISERA

And it is the purpose of the Council to put this election to the gods?

PADAHOON

It may come to that--(_A pause._) Chief Rain Wind is a dotard. What should a woman know of these matters?

THE CHISERA

All that the gods are thinking in their hearts.

PADAHOON

The gods, aye! But what word have the gods of the affairs of Sagharawite except as you carry it? Now between us--Chisera--

THE CHISERA

What is there between us, Padahoon, that our talk should be otherwise than appears at the Council?

PADAHOON

There should be a matter of two doeskins, tanned white and fine (_he produces them from under his blanket_) if the gods are friendly. Look, Chisera!

(_He spreads them out before the_ CHISERA, _who is seated by the
hut, feathering a prayer-stick._)

PADAHOON

(_Dropping the doeskins negligently._) Oh, the man can make an arrow.

THE CHISERA

But not lead a war party?

PADAHOON

A war leader, Chisera, should be neither old and timid, nor young and overbold, but of middle years and discretion; not so hot in his heart that his head cannot reason with it, nor so reasonable that it cools his heart.

(_As he stands again, his hands are folded inside his arms; he is
not so sure of his errand_.)

THE CHISERA

Like ... Padahoon.

PADAHOON

(_Wheedling._) What will the gods think of a blanket of the Navajoes (_he spreads it out before her_)--thick and fine--and four strings of shells--and a cake of mesquite meal--?

THE CHISERA

Are the gods a-cold, Padahoon, that you bring them a blanket? Is there hunger in their camp, think you?

PADAHOON

Let the things stay in yours, Chisera; they will remind you to speak well of me when you go before the Friend of the Soul of Man.

THE CHISERA

Put up your pack, Padahoon!

PADAHOON

It is a little matter, Chisera; a handful of sticks thrown on the ground. What should the gods care for a handful of sticks? And the blanket is very thick. Shall I leave it a little while, that you may admire it?

THE CHISERA

Put up your pack, Padahoon, and learn not to think so lightly of the gods, lest they visit it upon you!

PADAHOON

(_Reluctantly putting up the bribe; after a pause, revolving new measures._) Chisera, this is a man's business which comes before you in the Council. Will you hear man-talk from me?

THE CHISERA

Is it possible the Sparrow Hawk does so much credit to my understanding?

PADAHOON

Chisera, we have had peace now at Sagharawite so many summers that scarcely a man of us besides myself has seen battle; also we are a little outnumbered. Have you thought, Chisera, what will come to Sagharawite if we go out under an untried leader?

THE CHISERA

What will come will be as the gods determine. What reason have you to think they will favor you more than Simwa?

PADAHOON

It is my experience, Chisera, that the gods are inclined to the better man. And, look you, Chisera, this is perhaps my last chance to serve my people. Comes another war, if there are enough of us left after this to make another war possible, I shall be too old for leadership. And I have that in me which I would prove before I die. This is man-talk, Chisera. Do you understand it?

THE CHISERA

I understand that you want greatly this election, but I can do nothing except as the gods declare. Put up your pack, Padahoon, I have work to do. (_Rising._)

PADAHOON

(_Putting up his pack._) How much did Simwa give you?

THE CHISERA

(_Startled._) Simwa! (_Recovering herself._) The Arrow-Maker of Sagharawite leaves all higher matters where they belong.

PADAHOON

Simwa put trust in the gods! Simwa believe that by singing and dancing and waving of arms, with a rag of buckskin and a hair of your head and three leaves of a seldom-flowering plant, you can turn the fortunes of war? This will be news for the fighting men, Chisera.

THE CHISERA

(_Quivering, but controlling herself._) Padahoon, now by this I am minded to prove what the gods can do against tale-bearers and snakes in the grass! (_Balancing her medicine stick for a moment, she seems on the point of invoking the gods against him, but thinks better of it._) Nay, but the gods have greater affairs. (_Sound of the drums in the direction of the camp._) Now I go to prepare strong medicine so that you shall know, Padahoon, how the gods choose between you and the Arrow-Maker.

(_She goes into the hut and lets fall the curtain._)

(_Enter_ PAMAQUASH, YAVI, _and other youths to prepare for the
Council._)

PAMAQUASH

Is the Chisera advised of the Council?

PADAHOON

Even now she prepares herself in the wickiup. Where is the Chief?

PAMAQUASH

He stays only until the fighting men are gathered together.

PADAHOON

I will join them. See that the Chisera is not disturbed before her time. (_He goes out._)

PAMAQUASH

Over there in front of the wickiup, one of you light the medicine fire, but do not light it until the Chisera comes.

(YAVI _and another prepare the fire._)

YAVI

How is it that the Chisera will discover the will of the gods?

PAMAQUASH

Spread a blanket there, where the Chief and the Chisera will sit--(_To_ YAVI.) By the casting of the seven sacred sticks. As the gods will they make the sticks to fall in a sign that she can read.

YAVI

Is it so that the Medicine Worker sometimes fails?

PAMAQUASH

Medicine men have died at it before now--and better so, for otherwise they should have died by the law.

YAVI

Is that the law?

PAMAQUASH

Surely, surely. For of what use is an advocate with the gods if he cannot get to them. It would be so with the Chisera.

(_As the preparations have gone forward, the sound of the drums
and rattles, with an occasional subdued whoop, has drawn nearer,
and the Fighting Men, led by the_ CHIEF, _in full fighting gear,
arrive in single file marching to the drums. The procession halts
in the open space before the_ CHISERA'S _hut._)

CHIEF

Let the Council sit.

(_Eleven of the elders seat themselves in a circle about the
fire, turning toward the_ CHIEF. _The others stand or sit
attentively in the background. The_ CHIEF _at the fire hands the
ceremonial pipe to_ YAVI _who lights it._ RAIN WIND _blows a puff
of smoke to all the gods, returning to his place in the Council;
the pipe passes from hand to hand; when it has passed all about,
each tribesman blowing smoke and saluting, the_ CHIEF _rises and
stands before the_ CHISERA'S _hut_.)

Chisera, Chisera, come to Council!

THE CHISERA

(_Advancing to his side._) Rain Wind, Chief of Sagharawite, what will you have of me?

(PAMAQUASH _lights the medicine fire._)

CHIEF

To carry a matter too hard for us before the Friend of the Soul of Man.

THE CHISERA

Nothing that men contrive in their hearts is too hard for the gods. Speak, then!

(_Goes and sits beside the_ CHIEF.)

CHIEF

(_Rising._) Tribesmen, for as many years as a fir tree needs to bear cones, I have been Chief in Sagharawite. Now I am old, and, like a badger, see only my own trail (_grunts of dissent_), and my legs carry me no farther than my eyes see. Therefore, since there is war with Castac concerning the pinyon trees which are ours (_grunts and exclamations_), it is right you have a younger man to lead you. But, since it has never happened that there must be a war leader chosen while there is a chief alive and sitting in Council, I think it well to inquire how the gods stand toward us. Tribesmen, what do you say? (_Sits with great dignity._)

CHOCO

(_Rising and saluting the_ CHIEF _with lifted hand. Speaking with great deliberation and winning sober approval._) Chief Rain Wind has said. The occasion is strange and the candidates of such diverse but equal merit that it is impossible for a just man to choose between them. Let the Chisera carry it to the gods.

CHIEF

This is truth which Choco says--whom the gods will favor they favor. They are not greatly bound to the choice of men.

THE COUNCIL

Good counsel! good counsel! (_Assent from the bystanders._)

TAVWOTS

(_Continuing, with earnestness._) Tribesmen, I am not myself of two minds in this business. I speak freely for Padahoon according to our custom which is, without discredit to the Arrow-Maker, for the leadership of the elder. But at least let us remember that the gods have high affairs; they are not always listening to the gossip of the camp-fire and hut. What word have they of Sagharawite except as the Chisera carries it? If we put the choice to them, let her know what we are thinking in our hearts. Let Simwa and Sparrow Hawk declare it so that we and the gods shall know how they stand toward the conduct of this war. I have said. (_Seats himself amid general approval._)

OLD MEN

Good counsel! Good counsel!

TRIBESMEN

Simwa! Padahoon! The Arrow-Maker! Padahoon!

CHIEF

Padahoon, you have the more years; say what you will do. And do you, Chisera, bear it well in your heart as you go up before the Friend of the Soul of Man.

THE CHISERA

The trail of the gods is hard and none may walk therein save those that walk sincerely. Speak, then!

PADAHOON

(_Rising._) Chief and tribesmen, you know me. What I think in my heart, I say; and what I say I do. The pinyon trees are ours, since the time of our father's fathers (_general assent_), and this is a vain fight for the men of Castac. Inasmuch as they have crossed our borders, they do evilly, but they are also Paiutes, as we are, and sons of the Bear. Aforetime when the Tecuyas came against us, they were as our brothers. Now, were I war leader, I should leave them at Pahrump and, going up behind the ridge of Toorape, strike at their villages. When we have their women and children and their stores, we can make terms with our brothers of Castac. So shall we save our honor and our allies.

INDIANS

Good counsel! Ugh! Huh! Padahoon! Good counsel!

CHIEF

Speak, Simwa!

SIMWA

(_Rising._) Shall I call a thief my brother, and is a poacher my fellow that I should respect him? Sons of the Bear are the men of Castac? Aye, bastard sons, and the coyote is their mother. (_Grunts and cries of approval._) The Castacs have filled up our springs and driven our deer. They have stalked our hunters in the hills. (_Grunts._) Aye, but we have given the stalkers arrows of ours to keep. (_Grunts of satisfaction._) Shall we go after our arrows, men of Sagharawite, or shall we wait until our "brothers" of Castac come and stroke us? I am not so old as Padahoon, nor so wise, but, by the Bear that fathered us, were I war leader for the space of one moon, there would be no more men of Castac to trouble our harvest.

YOUNG MEN

Simwa! Simwa! The Arrow-Maker!

OLD MEN

Padahoon! Padahoon!

CHIEF